


hide inside me tonight

by Marishna



Series: earth and history [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Creeper Peter Hale, Exhibitionism, Flirting, M/M, Masturbation, Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, One-Sided Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Public Masturbation, Scents & Smells, The Jungle (Teen Wolf), Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 12:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11013435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marishna/pseuds/Marishna
Summary: Stiles became Peter’s ‘one that got away’ the second he refused the bite from him





	hide inside me tonight

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly didn't think I was going to get anything done for today because I wrote a fic for fullmoon-ficlet instead that will be tomorrow's fic. But here we are with something that came out of the blue. Day 26 I AM IN YOU.

The entire town stunk of something evil settling over them all.

Even Peter was wary of what was brewing but it seemed that the Scooby Gang hadn’t caught on yet. They were still running around saving strangers and getting themselves in the thick of dangerous situations.

Peter watched from afar because it wasn’t his fight and he didn’t care beyond waiting for his chance to strike. He would be an alpha again and he’d take back what should have been his all along. 

In the meantime he didn’t mind distractions and, as it happened, one walked right by him as he skulked in a dark alley across from Jungle. Sometimes there was fun to be had when pretty young things stumbled out of the bar, horny and loaded. Not all of them caught Peter’s eye but this one…

Well, Stiles became Peter’s ‘one that got away’ the second he refused the bite from him. Since then the boy was often on his mind as he tried to figure out what made him tick. He was loyal to a fault and although he likely had the best survival instincts out of their pathetic pack he had a heart that was too big for his body. It sent him careening into the most dangerous of situations without sparing a thought to his own safety and life expectancy. 

Peter would go so far as to say that if something happened to Stiles on one of their inane do-gooder missions that he would miss the teen. 

And so that was part of what made Peter want to follow Stiles into the club after midnight on a random Wednesday. It was late for Beacon Hills and especially for a growing boy with a flexible moral code who didn’t _seem_ overly impressionable but under the right circumstances, Peter was willing to try his hand at making a dent.

Stiles walked into the club with no trouble and that gave Peter pause. Stiles looked too young to waltz into a club, even one as permissive as Jungle, and he was the Sheriff’s son which should have made the bouncer zero in on him like a heat-seeking missile. Peter breezed past the guard as well, but he heard the snort of derision aimed at him as he passed by. Peter smiled grimly to himself and added the bouncer to a running list of checks and balances he kept in mind. 

Inside Jungle, there were enough people milling around the bar and on the dance floor that Peter couldn’t find Stiles easily so he allowed himself to track him by scent even though he hated the smells of such a closed-in area. He could practically taste the years of buildup of stale, sticky alcohol, immature sweat, and enough hormones to trigger a small sexual revolution at the heart of Beacon Hills.

He found Stiles, eventually. He smelled as Peter remembered but there was something earthier mixing with his scent. It confused him and made him think of memories he had of the past and his youth. They confused and clouded his mind but he pressed on, parting the crowd with subtle flashes of his blue eyes and quiet, threatening snarls. 

Peter followed his nose to the second set of washrooms down a private hall behind the main facilities. Not many people knew of this set of toilets that still reflected the original hardware and layout from when the place opened back in the early 80’s, but it was painted black and neon made electric by black lights. 

The scent of hormones competed with that of semen, both fresh and stale. Peter wrinkled his nose and was tempted to leave to escape the smell but his curiosity outweighed his disgust. He snaked around the edges of the room, openly appreciating the various pairings of couples in the rooms, some of whom were already in compromising positions while others snorted unknown substances or were working up the nerve to carry out their deepest desire. 

He spotted Stiles shortly, in the perfect position to watch him as Stiles was leaning sideways against a wall with his back to Peter. Stiles seemed to be watching something and--no, wait. Peter scanned his eyes slowly up and down Stiles’ lank figure and saw his hand moving slowly in front of him. Peter could tell what was obviously happening but it wasn’t enough just for him to know. 

He slowly made his way around the opposite way so he was further away from Stiles but from a better angle, he could watch Stiles stroke himself openly. From the neck up Stiles looked like he was merely lost in thought but from the torso down he was freely masturbating. Peter opened his senses and focused on Stiles, trying to hear his panting or breathy moans under all the other faked and choked off grunts and groans in the room. He couldn’t smell Stiles any longer, not with so much interference, so Peter took his fill visually and cataloged every iota of information he could gather.

He wanted to record it and he told himself it would be ideal for blackmail but there was also something very tempting about having it to reference when he needed to bring himself off. As much as Peter didn’t like resorting to jerking himself off all the time there weren’t many people he could turn to for a simple roll in the hay and there was no way he was experimenting with dating. 

No, Stiles would make an ideal alternative plan in this case, especially when Stiles fell back fully against the wall and the sides of his open pants fell down enough to expose his hip bones that Peter’s mouth watered to be allowed to run his tongue over. 

He frowned as he felt his cock stir to life and start to thicken. Peter generally wasn’t much for exhibitionism on his own but his body had other ideas this night. He palmed himself through his pants and ground the heel of his hand down for friction. 

Peter heard a muffled gasp and then choking and he glanced to his left in time to see a shirtless, muscle-bound guy shoot down the throat of the guy kneeling in front of him. Interesting enough but nothing like--

He looked up to where Stiles was and met his eyes fully. Peter’s dick jumped against his hand through his pants as Stiles smirked across the darkened room at him. Stiles was lazily pulling at himself and clearly in no rush to get off. 

Peter didn’t look away but neither did Stiles, except to drop his gaze interestedly to Peter’s erection. He felt an odd sense of satisfaction knowing Stiles was curious and it made him idly consider putting on a show for the teen, see what kind of reaction he’d get from him then.

A loud exclamation and scuffle next to Stiles pulled Peter’s attention for a second. When he looked back at Stiles his eyes… his eyes were flat and his mouth was twisted into a disturbing snarl with pointy, jagged fangs where his teeth should have been. Peter did a double take but that’s all the time Stiles needed to disappear. 

Peter stormed out of the backroom and scented Stiles’ trail but it was gone. He hurried outside, earning a second snort of derision from the bouncer, but he ignored it. Stiles was gone and all that remained was the hauntingly familiar smell of earth and history.


End file.
